


A Prince in Chains

by Floris_Oren



Category: Original Work
Genre: 'Very tall' Dwarfs, Bondage, Bottom!Keltris, Butt Plugs, Cum Inflation, Elf Culture, Elf Warrior Culture, Elves, Gags, High Fantasy, I don't usually write this type of thing, Kidnapping, M/M, Mercenaries, Mysterious backstory, No humans in site, Orc's are not "beasts" in this fic, Orcs, Rape, Slavery, Top!Mornard, Top!Shengis, Top!Someil, bottom!Salhin, by know you should know what I SUPER love to write, honestly, non consenstual, red caps, robbers, rope, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-07-04 11:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15840417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: The Elvan Empire didn't know it, but their Emperor had put a stop to a secret takeover by an enemy he had no knowledge of; with his son a victim of said plot - Emperor Virion has one choice. A choice that broke his heart. now, he needs the help of Salhin, the recently banished Elf, who's run into complications of his own with an Orc; a once mighty warrior.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I don't write a ton of original stuff but this kinda just happened. 
> 
> Salhin is pronounced Sal-in. the H is silent. 
> 
> Shengis, is pronounced as it is spelled. There may be more world building if I add to this. 
> 
> and PLEASE HEED THE TAGS, there is rape in this fic. I don't usually write it so I am kinda surprised at myself.

**_An owl hoots from a nearby tree;_ ** the wind is louder in his ears during the eeriness of night than by day. The moon is full and his little fire doesn’t seem to stave off the utter creep factor the forest is having on him. Salhin knows it’s just his imagination. This isn’t the first time he’s camped out in the woods by himself. 

 

He may be far from home, and maybe that was it. He wasn’t in his own forest which he knew by heart and soul. He was somewhere in the Craggy Cliffs. A mountain region know for it’s hideous Trolls and Orcs. Being banished sucked balls as far as Salhin care to think on his current situation. 

 

He sighed as he lay down in his bed roll; he needed to sleep. He’d hunt in the morning and move on. The Craggy Cliffs is not a place he needed to be more than was absolutely necessary. 

 

~*~

 

Shengis had a lousy night hunting. He was glad for once that he always went back to an empty hole in the ground. If he had a family they would shame him for not being able to provide for them. As it stood, he was a male Orc and when males got to age in their society they were kicked out of their families home and wondered the cliffs until they found a suitable mate. So they would make a hole. And furnish it for the potential mating. 

 

Shengis stopped where he stood and gave his surroundings one final glance. No deer, nothing. He’d have to extend his hunting territory tomorrow. For sure, then, he saw a pinpoint of light. He squinted his large eyes at it. And with nothing better to do, he wondered towards it. 

 

The nearer he got the better he could see that the light source was a fire. And that it was started by….glancing at the figure lying on a blanket...an elf. An elf in his territory! 

 

Shengis stood outside the circle of light. Making sure not to breathe too heavily. It seemed as if his little visitor had just gone to sleep. He quietly walked into the small camp. And bent by the figure. The elf had long silver hair, and a tip of his ear had been cut off. A silver ring went through the healing flesh. And below his ear is a brand. And Shengis knows what this Elf is. 

 

He reaches into his own pack and brings out coils of rope. If he wasn’t going to take a deer home, he may as well take this Elf. 

 

~*~

 

The moment Salhin is touched he jerks awake; he doesn’t get any time to grab his knife, the Orc above him has Salhin by the neck and there’s rope being tied around said neck in the next moment. Then it’s pulled tight and Salhin can’t breath….

 

“Lay still, slave.” the Orc growls. “You are mine.” 

 

Salhin tries to say something but with the air cut off he just gurgles up at the Orc. The rope goes slack and he’s sucking in air greedily. Which distracts him from the orce tying his wrists together. Looping the rope around his arms several times. Knotting it and then sitting him up to loop the ropes around his middle and up his chest; until he’s ensconced in it. 

 

“Let me go!” Salhin demanded. “I haven’t done a thing to you.” 

 

“You trespassed.” the Orc replied. “You belong to me now.” the Orc pushed at Salhin until he’s lying down again and then he’s flipped over. He expects to for his legs to be tied, and he is right, but not before the brute pulls his trousers down. Exposing him to the moonlight. 

 

“Excuse you!” Salhin cries out in indignation. It simply earned him a slap on his hind-end. Followed by another and another. Until he’s squirming and trying to crawl away. The Orc kept a firm hand on him, using the leftover lengths of rope as a handle. 

 

“I told you that you belong to me.” the Orc smacked Salhin once more. Then grabbed at the Elfs dick and balls. 

 

“Stop that!” 

 

In reply, the Orc takes the rope and loops it around Salhin’s privates; the rope constricted tightly around his cock and balls. The Orc slapped Salhin’s balls a few times. Gaining a few pained mewls from the Elf he had captured. 

 

Then the rope snakes down his thighs, ties at the knees and continues to his ankles. He is bound up good and tight, unable to get away or fight. 

 

“My name is Shengis, and you are my slave from now on.” the Orc introduced himself. 

 

“Let me go.” Salhin said. “This is absurd.” 

 

THat gained him another spanking. The rope divided his buttox into two perfectly round globes, good for spanking as far as Shengis has concerned himself. He’d have to give this Elf a lot of discipline. 

 

“Tell me your name.” Shengis said instead. 

 

“Salhin.” is the reply. Muffled a bit by the dirt Salhin has his face in. 

 

“Salhin, you belong to me. You will do as I say or I will punish you.” Shengis said dryly. 

 

“You can’t do this to me.” 

 

“Why not?” Shengis asked. “You are not protected by your people anymore.” he fingered the brand under Salhin’s ear. The Elf, still face down, wiggled and yelped when Shengis pulled him up by the hair. 

 

“Proper training you will need.” he murmured. From his pack he found the cloth bag he would have used for berries if he had found any. He folded it up, then gripped Salhin’s chin and angled the Elf’s mouth open. Salhin tried to get out of the grip, but Shengis was far stronger then he, and moved quickly as well. He had the fabric well inside Salhin’s mouth, muffling any sound Salhin would make. Then he pulled a long piece of leather from his pack and wound it around Salhin’s face so that the fabric wouldn’t be pushed out. 

 

“MMmmgfghghgh…” Salhin shook his head. Trying to dislodge the gag. 

 

“Good Elf.” Shengis mocked. “Now come, it is time to take you home.” he promptly folded up Salhin’s camp and put out the fire, then he put the Elf over his shoulder and made his way back to his hole. 

 

~*~

 

Salhin cried out as Shengis thrust his cock deep inside the Elf’s anus. He’d spent a good our pouring oil into Salhin and fingering him open, until he was certain he could fuck the Elf without tearing. He’d already cum a couple of times, he had let it spew all over his captive. Who hadn’t liked that at all and which amused Shengis to no ends. 

 

Salhin was still tied up, even his dick and balls. He would gain completion for a few days, or months, now that Shengis thought about it. Training this little, banished Elf would be very fun indeed. Shengis made sure to slap a butt cheek every now and then when he thrust in hard. His large dick must feel big to Salhin who is slender and delicate in body structure. 

 

Shengis likes to rove a hand over Salhin’s stomach to feel his dick poke into the Elf’s bowles. Each thrust made Salhin howl with the indignity of it all. 

 

Shengis then left himself go, just fucking the Elf as if tomorrow the world would end; and when he felt himself on the precipice. He stilled. Salhin wiggled in his bindings, realizing that Shengis wasn’t done and probably wouldn’t be done, even though he had an amazing refractory period. 

 

Salhin is stuck, with an Orc dick in his ass and cum all in his hair. He starts to cry when Shengis pistons into him, slower this time. Making him feel every punch of that dick within him. He cries out around his gag each time his prostate is touched. 

 

Yet, he cannot cum. Not with the way his dick and balls are tied. A big hand reaches around and grips at Salhin’s dick, pulls on it. Then there is a cruel laugh above him; “Poor little Pet, can’t cum can you?” 

 

Salhin growls. He gets a few spanks for that. Making his ass hurt even more. “You won’t cum for a very long time. Salhin, I’ll make sure of that.” and there is a dark promise in Shengis’ voice that tells Salhin that the Orc is being quite truthful. 

 

He groans as Shengis stops once more, they’re both breathing hard. Then Shengis starts up again. This time he goes at a very punishing pace. Salhin wishes he could cum, in fact, he would have earlier during his fingering if he hadn’t been tied. 

 

This time, Shengis doesn’t stop. He keeps going until he’s cumming deep within Salhin. His stomach stretches with the amount of semen Shengis is putting in him. And with a final slap to his ass, the Orc pulls out. Only to replace his dick with a rather annoying ass plug. It’s black with little spikes that dig into the anal walls. Making sure that Salhin will feel it, and possibly not push it out or pull it out. 

 

“Good pet.” Shengis said as he lies down with a yawn. He’s asleep in seconds. Unable to move due to the rope bondage, and unwilling to move due to the plug in his ass, Salhin, too, falls asleep. 

  
  



	2. The Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elf Emperor is disappointed by men; but what else is new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virion = Ver-e-on (so about the same as it's spelled)  
> Arnfinn = the same as its spelled.   
> Elre+ El-Ree  
> Gyllean = Jill-Lean (someone butchered my name badly a couple weeks ago and it stuck with me so here it is. for the record. The Y is the same as an I when it comes to G. So if you ever see GY together it is pronounced like the JI in Jill.)
> 
> Also, while this chapter doesn't hold any sex, I wanted to do more plot for this piece. It may turn into a proper book. but to what ends I don't know.   
> Go ahead and theorize in the comments. I'd love to hear what anyone has to say on this matter.

Chapter 2 - The Daughter

 

~*~*~

“My Lord,” Councilor Elre poked his head around the room divider; the Emperor was sitting in a copper bath, the water steamed about him and his long white hair trailed over the side. Dripping from a dunk in the water. The air smelled of jasmine and rose from the scented bath oils poured in before the Emperor even dipped a toe into the water to test it. 

 

“Yes, my friend?” Virion didn’t even turn his head. He looked out through the open doors of the balcony; the moon hung high in the sky. And he wondered. He had been doing that ever since the trial. Ever since he lost….

 

_ No, I shan’t think on it.  _ He told himself sternly. Grim, storm grey eyes turned from the wonders of heaven to the dimly lit royal chamber. Elre now stood at the bath side. 

 

“The King Regent of Tascerus wants a meeting with you. I told him to come at a later date but he will not be dissuaded.” Elre explained. 

 

“Bring some wine and cheese,” Virion replied, “I shall see our human guest.” 

 

That brought his troubled thoughts to another; for a few years now the Dying King of Tescerus had begged Virion to take his only girl as his wife. Wanting to keep the lands peace before he died due to several of his enemies biting at him to tear what he had gotten from sacrifice and war to pieces. 

 

He had been told that the girl was seventeen, and if they went by the Elves marriage tradition that she’d be only a year older. That was quite unusual for humans who tended to marry their children off at quite the young age of thirteen or twelve. It was simply barbaric and Virion hadn’t considered it until he’d heard she was seventeen. 

 

Truth be told, he’d been lied too; the child and her entourage had arrived just that morning, She was nine. She was dressed as a grown woman. With a long train on her dress. Children did not get such decoration. He had been livid when he had seen. 

 

Virion grimaced at himself as he retook that memory; he’d taken the child by the arm and ripped the train and the other adornments from her. Throwing them on the ground in anger. But he had not addressed the child. He had addressed the adults around her. 

 

_ “What is this you bring me? A child, not a woman. No marriage will take place.”  _ then he took the child into his arms and stocked off with her to the nursery. 

There he left her in the capable hands of a nursemaid; before locking himself up in his chambers. So, of course, the King Regent would want to speak to him for Viron had spurned his advances upon arrival of the Human Princess. 

 

He angrily sloshed his way out of the water, and got his dressing gown himself; the doors to his chamber opened and a servant came bearing the food and drink; behind him. King Regent Arnfinn entered. 

 

“Your Holiness,” Arnfinn addressed him in the proper way. “I apologize for the misunderstanding earlier….” 

 

“There wasn’t a misunderstanding, I have letters stating the girl is seventeen years old; she is nine. She will not marry me or any other male in my kingdom or yours.” Virion said. “I cannot believe you’d be so petty.” 

 

“Matters of our crown is of no importance to you.” 

 

“They are when your former King promised his seventeen year old daughter to me in his hand.” Virion took a stack of letters and threw them at Arnfinn. “Do you propose to keep lying to me?” 

 

“No,” Arnfinn pursed his lips; he’s an ugly man of a low nature. He is barley six feet tall with long brown hair and a rather kept goatee. “I am most pressured by the Council to get Gyllean wedded as soon as possible to keep our people from breaking apart.” 

 

“There are other ways.” Virion snarled. His distaste for the man growing. “I stand by my words; she will not be wed to anyone. Instead, I shall adopt her as my Daughter. She will have the right to not only your throne but mine as well. And when the time comes and she has found a suitable person to marry. I shall welcome it as will your council and people.” 

 

“But, that would make you…” 

 

“Yes, that would make me King of your lands. And will you fight me for it?” 

 

Arnfinn shook his head; “Well, I am in your service.” he finally bowed. 

 

“Good dog,” Virion said. Now get out, my water is getting cold.” 

 

Arnfinn bowed again and marched out without nary another word. Virion retrieved the snack he had ordered and went back to his water. Thankfully, someone had thought to warm it up. However, that would mean that someone had also overheard what they had spoken about. 

 

“Amara?” he asked the “empty” room. 

 

“Yes, Emperor?” she stepped out of a hidden recess of the wall. The door swung back to conceal the hiding spot. 

 

“What did you hear?” he asked. 

 

The Elf woman stepped forwards. Unlike the Ladies of the palace she wore leggings and tunic in the colors of his Palace guards. “What would you like for me to have heard?” she asked. Auburn hair glinted in the candle light. 

 

“Nothing of note.” he replied. 

 

“Than I was nowhere.” she nodded. 

 

Virion turned his eyes back to the moon. The water sloshed about him as his loyal Assassin disappeared into the secret passages of the castle once more. 

 

_ Katyr,........ _ the moon seemed to whisper to him. 

 

~*~*~

 

A hard, bristle brush scraped across the cavern floor. A splash of water. Then the scraping began again. On his knees, naked as the day he’d been captured, Salhin scrubs the floor of the Orc’s home. It hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and in want of something for his new slave to do; Shengis had braided Salhin’s long, silvery moon white hair and pinned it up before making the elf with the brand of expulsion start his day off with a good ol’ early morning blow job. 

 

Then the chores. 

 

Salhin had to admit that he didn’t exactly know how to do many of the chores and so Shengis had to explain it to him;  he hoped that didn’t give his Orce Captor any ideas about where he came from; Salhin has every intention of keeping that to himself. So he wears the chains about his ankles and wrists as he would have a robe of grand stature from his previous life; and he scrubs the floor, and he he chokes of the Orc’s dick and he takes said dick up the ass whenever his butt gets too far off the ground. 

 

And Shengis has his own work, but that doesn’t mean the Orc doesn’t keep a good eye on him. Sometimes he even takes Salhin outside, gagged, and hangs him on a branch of a tree while he chops firewood. And so far, the days have gone on like this. And endless march of domesticity that had Salhin frothing at the mouth to just fight back. 

 

He is done with the floor. He gets up from his knees and trudges to the door, bucket in hand, to pour the dirty water out. He glances up at the moon. He knows that someone he loves is also looking at it. He will be strong. He will face his captor head on and he will gain his freedom. 

He’s also brought enough failure to his house. Which is why he won’t tell the Orc his real name. Nor where he had come from or why he had done the shameful deed. 

 

He closed the door and lent against it; the iron shackle about his ankle reminded him of his current plight. No one ever said banishment was supposed to be easy, or fun. 

 

“Salhin,” Shengis called. 

 

“I’m coming, Master….” 

  
  



	3. The Name of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keltris is called upon for a mission for the Emperor. An Old Crone takes things into her hands. and political intrigue raises its old head again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't an interest in posting more to this, because I want to turn it into an original book. But, I think I should post at least three free chapters. Please let me know what you think of it. I'm still trying to figure out how much I should let be known this early in the story. Thank you for reading.

The Old Crone had walked up a thousand and one steps of the Citadel’s tower where a huge brass bell stood still; it was to be wrung in times of Despair and War. Only twice had the bell rung out to the lands, now, it stood still. But not for long; for the crone knew something that no others did. Indeed, the peasantry went about their day as they always had; without a care of the monarchy or what transpired or hadn’t transpired.

 

Yet.

 

The first rays of sunlight caught on the clouds just beyond the tower; turning them into light, orange and red. Adonia let out a small grunt as she lent heavily on her walking stick. This trip is getting to be too much for her old bones. She looked out at the city below her; every time she came up here, it surprised her that no one else knew what she did. That the baker would still bake those cream rolls. That the apothecary would fill her daily quota of healing herbs she’d specially blend for other elderly folks with pain in their joints.

 

There are only five or so people in this world that knew about the usurper and his small force that almost gained the throne what, three months ago? Was it? She couldn’t remember. Precisely.

 

If it wasn’t for that vision the Emperor wouldn’t have to do what he did; they wouldn’t have to cover it up. And tell the people a falsehood to keep face with them. She hated that part. She thought everyone should know, but he had asked her not to say a word. That he’d do anything or give her anything she wanted.

 

He had made good on that promise. Too.

 

Adonia finally saw what she had come up here to see, a white Raven flew up from a rooftop; it took him a few minutes to get up to her. But finally he did.

 

“Give this message to Salhin.” She said.

 

The bird waited patiently as she tied a piece of parchment onto it’s leg, then cast a leading spell. The bird will be able to find the Elf in no time.

 

She just hoped the shamed elf would be able to arrive here in time; for she had another vision. And this time, there was no way to quietly take care of it. And she needed Salhin.

 

~*~*~

 

Dyffros paced his room; for months he had lived in fear that his little scheme would come to light and he’d be marched off to the torture chambers before being executed. Yet. Every day he waited for the guards to come, to be stopped in the halls on his way to the library and no one ever did stop him.

 

Now, with the Prince and his minion gone. Dyffros had claim to the throne. Or he would have if the Emperor hadn’t claimed that human child as his daughter with every right to it afforded to her. Now he had to get rid of the wretch.

 

There is so much to do and so much to plan; but the one thing that hung over him - besides discovery - is the Shamed One. Salhin had volunteered to take on the crime. To be sent away from his home. He didn’t know Dyffros had betrayed him. In fact, Salhin had spoken to Dyffros at length about the plan to switch him and Prince. Salhin had looked enough like the Prince that people got them regularly confused.

 

The Emperor could not banish his only son; so Salhin had gone in his place. And now, the True Heir was locked away. Only his Father and a very close councillor knew where. It was amazing that the Prince hadn’t pointed a finger at Dyffros who had goaded him into the Usurpation.

The poison had done its job; it had made the Prince crazy. No one would believe him even if he got free by himself. Dyffros had played the game, and he had played it well.

 

Now, he had one last step before he could claim the throne. As was his right.

 

~*~*~

 

“I’ll find you, Kel, you can bet on it….” sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight and Keltris sat upwards from his bed hidden deep within the Castle. He sucked in cold air as he tried to calm down and come out of the panic attack. That voice, those teeth, they still haunted him even after so many years.

 

The elf ran hands through golden hair, and came across snags. He must have been having that particular nightmare for longer than he thought. The room is dark and without a window he does not know what time it is. Yet, he climbs out of his sweaty sheets and lit a candle.

 

Sitting in front of his mirror; Keltris takes a comb and starts at the bottom of his hair. On the table before him lies a trinket tray with his beads. A Warrior spent their whole lives collecting these to show their skill. The red for their first battle. Blue for their first defence of the innocent, and so on and so forth. Then, the black. Not one that the Warrior’s wore. It came from him. Someil the Red Handed was a mercenary - or bounty hunter depending on the day of the week - He claimed to be a Red Cap. Born from the blood of battles. He collected the heads of those he killed, and he had almost killed Keltris. He didn’t know why Someil hadn’t done him in. The Red Cap had raised his mace but brought it down by Keltris head.

 

He had jumped off a cliff in a hurry to escape the mercenaries; he broke his leg in the fall and he was certain this was going to be his death. Someil had simply frowned down at him and declared; “I usually kill all my foes, but I think I’ll keep you.”

 

Keltris knew that’s where the nightmare - no, memory - came from. That first meeting on the side of a mountain. His broken leg bent at an odd angle and Someil getting his partner in all things to carry him back up the mountain. Mornard wasn’t a Red Cap. He looked more human in many ways but that race had long since died out. So, Keltris simply assumed he was a rather tall dwarf.

 

Mornard was tall, and a bit harry but he and Someil got on rather well; and tormenting Keltris is one of their favorite hobbies. Keltris sighs as he does up the braids and put each bead in sequence. He ignores the black. He also ignores the faint memory touch of a dark skinned man winding rope about him in intricate patterns.

 

They’d sit in a tent at night, quietly, as the ropes are re-applied after a short time of freedom. Dinner over, Someil enjoying a bit of wine they had just stolen from some rich Lord or Lady that day. And watching.

 

Those sharp Purple eyes always watching.

 

He shudders and puts that memory away with a hurry; now he pulls the long night shirt from his body and washes up in the cold water from a pitcher he poured into a large bowl setting to the side of the table. Then he dresses in his Castle Guard Uniform. Brown leggings, brown thigh high boots. A tunic that reaches his knees in a dark, navy blue, and brown belt to hold his weapons.

 

He opens the doors, to find the hallway empty. As Head of the Guard staff he is allotted his own room. The others shared. Two or three to a room. He sighed to himself, well, there was always an early breakfast awaiting him. And Lieutenant Kavrala - his own sister - would possibly be waiting on him to arrive - so that they could get their paperwork out of the way for the day.

 

~*~*~

 

Kavrala took one look at her light haired twin before rolling her eyes; deep, sea green eyes, her dark purple hair looks stark in the otherwise white room. The castle - as legend goes - was made out of moon rock that had crashed to the planet long ago. And the Elves were born from moon beams, but some were born from Darkness. And they were the only Light/Dark Twins to ever be born in their Capital City.

 

“What is wrong, brother? Had that dream again?” she asked.

 

She’s dressed in a grey uniform. Splayed across her breast is the symbol of the Infantry company she heads. Her hairs is braided in much the same way as Keltris’. She looks at him with an odd gentleness. And he smiles a bit as he sits down. He takes a small, wooden, bowl and ladled some cooked oats into it from the huge pot on the table.

 

“I am fine, sister.” he says instead.

 

She scoffed; “Sure, sure. Go ahead and deny that you haven’t been sleeping.” she also frowned at him. She watched as he buttered a small amount of bread and went about stirring the oats and looking at them without any want to eat in his face at all. He forced a bite to his mouth.

 

She remembered how hard it was to get him to eat after he arrived back from his last mission; which made him retire from the Spy Company and become the head of the Guard. Where he would never leave the city again. He hadn’t told her much. Only that his time in captivity made it hard to remember he could do things as normal elves did; and that a lot of elves took their freedom for granted. She’d taken him food to his room, because he needed to do this privately at first.

 

And she had to give him a lot of permission at first; because apparently his captivity had been so regimated that if she just left it up to him he would have starved to death. He almost had; the Healers had been rather worried when she brought him to him after fainting from not eating for a few days. That was when he’d broken down and told her everything.

 

“It’s alright, brother, please Brother, eat.” she said softly. He nods at her. Every time he’d had that dream-memory he would go back to some of these “bad” habits.

 

“They didn’t ruin you.” she said.

 

“At least someone thinks so.” Keltris muttered around a bite of toast. “I’m not so sure.”

 

“It’s been three years.” she reminded him.

 

“Three years too long. I miss the forest.” he sighed. “I have a longing to go beyond the walls, again, and…...I know I can’t.”

 

“You can, but….”

 

“They’ll waiting for me.” Keltris said.

 

“My scouts say that there is a permanent mercenary encampment in the west.” she said. “I have a map and everything, but they’ve also started other settlements. I do think you’re fears are justified.”

 

“The Emperor doesn’t.” Keltris shook his head.

 

“He only wants what is best for his son, and you are the best. You have kept up your training right?”

 

The spy training is the best of the best. Any Elf who went through that are top notch and highly requested. Keltris had enjoyed a spot light of sorts amongst his peers. But, after retiring, he hadn’t gotten that much attention. He didn’t want it either.

 

“I…..”

 

“Brother, you cannot turn down the Emperor.” Kavrala frowned. “You and I both know what our Oaths mean.”

 

“Yes.” he nodded. “I’ll have to take up the mission.”

 


End file.
